


just listen

by faeryroses



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: (but like no homo), AU, Angst?, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Newt is so sweet but also so INTENSE, One Shot, Thomas is crushing so hard on Newt, also Thomas is a child he's a tad bit immature, but also bold!Thomas lmao, during the scorch trials, he thinks he's a literal angel, in Thomas's POV, movie!Brenda as always, read the notes before you read please!, shy!thomas, third person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 07:55:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16342850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faeryroses/pseuds/faeryroses
Summary: Thomas and Newt can't sleep, so naturally they decide to... learn how to drive. Or, they pretend they know how to drive when Brenda lets them take the car.





	just listen

**Author's Note:**

> this has been a long time coming. like i think i started writing this in february? and i'm just now finishing it yikes!! it's because for the longest time i couldn't figure out how to end it. and then just now, i was catching up on homework and I had to watch Casablanca and there's a lil clip in the movie that inspired the end of this fic so ! i wrote the end in one sitting and i am pleased and now i have to yeET this fic out into the world before i decide (again) that the ending isn't good enough. so, please enjoy! 
> 
> *this is inspired by the song Everything is Temporary (Sticks and Stones) by cavetown (because I love him and everything he does) and the scene in Casablanca when Ilsa and Richard are in Paris and they hear the Germans outside their window.*
> 
> should probably mention that the timeline is all screwy. idk what it is lmao. it's like when Brenda and Jorge first meet the gang and instead of them like immediately taking off somewhere, they stay for a few days. but also in this AU Teresa has already betrayed them. idk.

Thomas was restless. He couldn’t fall asleep. And it wasn’t because it was so cold, and it wasn’t because the Cranks two floors down wouldn’t shut up. Despite all the confusion of being thrown into unfamiliar situations, his mind still raced with solutions and plans. He wished his head would slow down for once, let someone else do the thinking for a while — or as long as it took for him to get a good night’s sleep.

Rolling over, he tried to look into the dark to see if anyone else was up. But of course he was practically blind. He could only see specks of stars through the broken windows.

“Newt,” he hissed. “Are you awake?”

There was a beat of silence, and Thomas almost rolled over to try sleeping again when Newt sighed. “Sadly.”

He couldn’t see him in the darkness at all, but he could tell he was close; he ignored his quickening heartbeat. “I can’t sleep.”

“Me neither.”

Thomas didn’t know what to say, and after a few minutes of silence, he assumed Newt, who had been very still, might be asleep by then. “Newt?”

“What?”

“Oh. I thought you were asleep.”

“I just said I can’t sleep, ya shank.”

His face burned, but he smiled. “Sorry.” Deciding the darkness would cover up his nervousness, he asked, “Do you want to go somewhere?” When he heard no immediate response, he continued, inwardly cringing, “Um, I mean we could walk around or go outside, maybe see if Brenda is—”

“Sure,” Newt said. Relieved, Thomas exhaled. He sat up and stretched, but there was a knot in his back he couldn’t ease. There had only been enough blankets for a few people so he willingly chose to sleep without one, but now he realized he should have been a little selfish for once. But even thinking that made him feel guilty.

“Um—” He felt disoriented without his sight, but managed to stand. “Which way are the stairs?”

Newt hummed and turned in a slow circle. “I was facing towards the door I think, so it’s behind you somewhere.” He led the way, maneuvering around the other kids sleeping on the floor. Thomas followed, trying not to step on the more solid areas of black on the ground. Once they cleared the tangle of sleeping bodies, they could feel along the wall to find their way. Newt stopped suddenly and Thomas bumped into him, muttering a “Sorry.” Newt passed through the doorway and took the first step down the creaking stairs.

A click echoed dimly. Thomas recognized it as the cocking of a gun. “Whoa, whoa,” Newt said, backing up over the top step again. A flashlight turned on; Thomas looked away, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Oh.” Brenda’s voice was quiet. “It’s you two.” Thomas opened his eyes in time to see her lower her gun. “Where are you guys going?”

Thomas cleared his throat. “We...need to leave. And it’s none of your business.” Saying that out loud, he felt like a 5-year-old.

Brenda tilted her head, her hand twitching at the gun. “It _is_ my business.” Her eyes glinted in the yellow light.

“We can’t sleep, Brenda. Sorry that Tommy is such a prick.” She chuckled dryly with a sharp exhale. “Those bloody Cranks are so loud. Are they always like that?”

Brenda nodded slowly, and Thomas noticed how tired she looked. Maybe it was just the shadows from the flashlight. “You two want to take the car? If you drive out past the hill, it’s a lot quieter. But you can go wherever you want.”

Thomas stopped himself from exclaiming, “Yes!” because he didn’t want to seem _too_ eager to spend more time alone with Newt, and because he remembered that neither of them knew how to drive. They never had the chance to learn.

But Newt agreed instead, though his voice held a hint of apprehension. If Brenda noticed, she didn’t show it. She motioned down the stairs with the gun. “On the landing for the second floor, there’s another staircase that leads out back so you’ll avoid all the Cranks. And the car is parked back there, too, right outside the door.” She shone her flashlight at the steps so they could see where they were going.

When Thomas squeezed past her, she said, “If you’re not back in 30 minutes, do you want us to go find you or assume you’re dead?”

He didn’t know what to say. Of course, she was being rational and smart, but it shocked him how bluntly she said it. And if anything happened, he would want his friends to look for them, but he couldn’t expect Brenda to, for even though they already trusted each other, they’d only known each other for a couple days. It wouldn’t make sense for her to endanger her life for two strangers who hardly knew how to survive in the Scorch. It would be best for her if she let natural selection take its course.

 _If_ anything happened to them at all.

After so much silence and unresponsiveness, Brenda shook her head. “We’ll find you.” She clicked the flashlight off and sat down on the top step. “See you soon.”

“Later,” Thomas said, unsure how to respond, and followed Newt down the stairs. They crossed the landing through another doorway to another set of stairs, just as Brenda promised. This one wound in tight spirals, spitting them out into a tiny room that might have once functioned as a mudroom.

Newt paused in front of the door, hand outstretched and hovering above the handle. “You don’t think there are any Cranks out there, do you?”

“There weren’t any when we came in and there weren’t any last night, so I don’t think so.” He hoped there weren’t. “We’ll be careful, though,” he added after seeing Newt’s worried expression.

At long last he opened the door. Because the sun had set, the air didn’t burn their lungs anymore, but it wasn’t late enough in the night for it to be blisteringly cold. A chill breeze whistled through the alley, in which there was nothing except for the car. They stared at it.

“I don’t know how to drive,” Thomas said. He exchanged a look with Newt.

“Neither do I.”

“Well, you can figure it out, right?” Thomas grinned and walked around to the passenger’s side, ignoring Newt’s protests, and climbed into the car. A moment later, Newt opened the other door and climbed in too.

One look at the tangle of exposed wires under the dashboard and he shook his head. “No. I can’t do this. I don’t know how to do this. I’m not any bloody good for this stuff.”

“Shut up, Newt. You’re smarter than me.”

“No.”

“ _Yes._ Now hotwire this shucking car.”

Ever so gingerly, he picked up the raw ends of two wires. Otherwise motionless, he pursed his lips in concentration. Thomas told himself to look away from Newt’s mouth. His eyes landed on the third-story window, where he could see a silhouette — Brenda, watching them silently. It made him nervous, strangely.

“Do you remember seeing how Jorge or Brenda did it?” he asked, feeling the need to be helpful. He tried to remember it himself, but he flushed red as he instead recalled how close he had to press against Newt in the backseat for the six of them to fit in the car when they drove to get supplies the day prior.

“I’m trying to.” He opened his eyes and sighed, though he kept his eyes sharply trained on the wires, as if looking at them long enough would give him the answer. “I don’t know if I even have the right wires. Bloody hell.” He glanced at Thomas. “Don’t stare. It’s making me nervous.”

“I want to see, though.” He was annoyed with himself for how much he had blushed in just the past few minutes.

“Don’t stare.”

“Alright, fine.” He turned to look out the car window, but there was nothing to look at. Closing his eyes instead, he rested his head on the seat. He still didn’t feel tired enough to sleep much, to his disappointment. It would have been nice to sleep there, in the cushioned car seat, more sheltered against the cold than they had been inside the building.

The car rumbled. Thomas’s eyes snapped open, but he had to squint at the sudden light shining overhead.

“Ha!” Newt laughed, bewildered. “I did it!” His smile was so wide, it warmed Thomas’s heart. “Okay, now to figure out how to actually drive…” He put his hands on the steering wheel as if approaching a rabid animal.

“Can’t be that hard,” Thomas said, though he was just as unsure and inexperienced. “Press down on the gas pedal, steering wheel…”

“Which one is the gas pedal?”

Thomas said nothing. He didn’t know.

“I’ll just try this one?” Newt slowly pressed down on one with his foot, and nothing happened.

“Try the other—”

“Yeah, yeah—”

The car inched forward. Newt sighed in relief, but gripped the steering wheel tighter. “Now what? Where do we go?” He tensed when Thomas reached across him to turn on the headlights.

“Brenda said we should drive past the hill. I think it’s up there?” Newt nodded and drove forward...so...slowly. “She’s watching, man. Pretend like you know what you’re doing and drive faster.”

“I—” He stopped before he even started his thought and pressed the pedal further towards the floor. The car accelerated, but they were still taking it slow. Thomas hoped it came across as “we-are-being-careful-because-it’s-dark” slow and not “we-don’t-know-how-to-drive” slow.

Newt guided the car along the narrow road over a small bump in the earth. The car jolted and Newt squeaked a slight gasp and whispered shakily, “Ah, sh—”

“It’s okay, you’re doing great.” Thomas could just barely see the hill in the car’s headlights ahead. The road wound around its base, and he couldn’t see where it went.

It didn’t seem possible for Newt to grow even more tense, but he did exactly that when he started turning the steering wheel at the curve in the road. Thomas didn’t say anything, not wanting to break Newt’s focus. His heart was pounding, though. He couldn’t imagine how nerve wracking this was for Newt. He almost laughed; something so simple as driving a car could instill greater anxiety than having to face a Crank, which they were plenty used to by now.

“I’m gonna get us killed,” Newt bemoaned as he went over another bump and swerved the car to regain control.

Thomas doubted it, but laughed nervously. “Please don’t.”

The road straightened out, rolling over a gentle slope then inclining slightly. “Where should we stop?” Newt asked, obviously anxious to stop driving.

“Looks like there’s an outlook or something right there. Pull over here.”

Newt turned onto the outlook, easing on the gas pedal, then jerking the car to a stop with the brakes. “I’m just gonna leave it running so I don’t have to do the wires again,” he said, and nodded as if to consolidate his plan in his own head.

“You did it! We’re alive!” Thomas said jokingly, and it made him glad to see Newt smile back. He got out of the car and slammed the door shut, clambering onto the hood of the truck. He looked up and saw the stars clearly. Once he had turned off the headlights, Newt climbed up beside him, and Thomas resisted watching him until he had settled. When he looked over at him, Newt was staring up at the stars, too. The light from within the car illuminated Newt’s hair like a halo, and the softness of his expression made him seem even more like an angel.

Thomas looked away in embarrassment, though it was the last thing he wanted to do. And he wanted to say something, or hear Newt say something, but the world felt so whole already in its peaceful silence broken only by the rustling of the wind and the rumble of the car engine, that he feared a human voice might break it.

But the world did not break when Newt spoke. “I wish I could remember something. Anything.”

After a brief moment of hesitation, contemplation, Thomas said, “I remember my mom.” He had never admitted it to anyone, not even himself. “I remember her face, and what she smelled like.” Woodsmoke and caramel. “And I think it’s worse than if I didn’t remember her at all. Because now that I can remember these little things, I want to — need to — remember more. But I can’t.” He felt tears moisten his eyes, and blinked them away in confusion. Strange, how he was crying for a woman he barely remembered. Hell, he knew Jorge better than his own mother by now.

“There’s something I almost remember,” said Newt. “It’s not quite a memory, but it’s a familiar feeling. It happened when the sun hit the Glade at the perfect moment before it disappeared under the walls of the maze — it always reminded me of something important, but I don’t know what it is. I think there’s an important person I’m trying to remember, too.”

Thomas’s heart sank a little, but of course Newt had an important person. How could he not? He was an incredible and loyal and loving person, and of course there had to have been someone else who had loved him. He’d thought about it before; if they ever regained their memories, Newt would probably remember an important person and feel indebted to remain loyal to their memory. Then he would really lose Newt.

He didn’t get the sense that he had had a special person before. Of course, WICKED had taken him when he was only about four years old. (He knew that much.) But somehow he could sense that, given the chance to live a normal life, he wouldn’t have had an important person. At least not for very long. He wasn’t sure why he had this intuition.

Newt slid off the roof of the car and walked to the edge of the lookout, which sloped down into a jagged pit of carved rock, and past it lay a forest of weeds and brush, green and thriving on the dying earth. The wind blew as Thomas joined him, sending shivers through his body until he pulled his jacket tighter around himself. He let his mind wander in the silence, and of course it wandered back to WICKED and Teresa. He had done such a good job at ignoring them for the past few hours; it disappointed and annoyed himself that he couldn’t completely let go.

But he let himself think about it for a moment. He knew that WICKED couldn’t really be as bad as he made himself think, because ultimately they wanted to save the world, and Teresa trusted them. And he trusted Teresa — somewhat. That was now in question, too.

“What?” asked Newt.

“What?” Thomas dumbly echoed.

“You said, ‘Shit.’ What were you thinking about?”

He hadn’t realized he’d said anything aloud, and didn’t know if he wanted to embarrass himself further by explaining his thoughts, but he trusted Newt wouldn’t ridicule him or disregard his worries. “I’m just...I don’t know what I want. I want to protect my friends, and fight against whatever and whoever is threatening my friends and killing us. But if I could help find a cure and save the world…?” He trailed off. “It’s just a _chance_ at saving the world, but it’s still a chance.”

He didn’t expect Newt to say anything. Another gust of cold wind caused him to hunch his shoulders. When the wind died down again, Newt said, his voice as soft as starshine, “This is really cheesy, but I’m gonna say it anyway. You just have to listen to yourself to know what’s right. You are considering helping WICKED for a reason, yeah? But there’s also reason for why you feel the need to fight them. Just figure out which is stronger.”

“I don’t know how to—”

“Tommy, it’s not that hard.” Thomas looked at Newt, suddenly taken aback by the fierce gentleness in his eyes. ‘When you imagine winning the fight, where do you want to be standing? Who do you want to be with?” He couldn’t stop staring at Newt; his words felt layered with something otherworldly. They struck a chord in him, and he heard his want loud and clear as a church bell, ringing through cloudless, spring air on a mountaintop.

In this moment, he felt so vulnerable that the wind could have torn through him and borne him away into the night. And the look in Newt’s eyes, the sound of his voice, like he was speaking inside his chest, made him feel as if Newt could see right through him, like he knew everything about him. Even though he had known for longer than he cared to admit that he kind of loved Newt, there was always something preventing him from letting himself fully love him. Like their bones were holding back their souls from intertwining. Like a fear that letting go would truly be letting go — as soon as it began, it would be taken away. They were all most certainly going to die someday, and having to say goodbye to a friend hurt like hell — so how much would it hurt to say goodbye to someone he _loved_?

But, he thought, if he was going to hurt anyway, if he was going to die anyway, what was the harm in letting himself hurt a little more? And if the fear of losing it all and getting hurt was the only thing standing between him and a chance to love and be loved? Well, he would even be willing to hurt himself on purpose to get that.

He knew what he wanted.

With the depth in Newt’s expression, Thomas could not believe anything other than that Newt wanted it, too. And if he happened to be wrong, he would face the consequences later. He didn’t care right now. He knew what he wanted. He listened to himself.

He leaned forward and kissed Newt, closing his eyes and bringing a hand out of his pocket to graze lightly along Newt's jaw. Thomas feared he had made a mistake when Newt sharply inhaled through his nose, but then Newt stepped closer, tilting his head just slightly. It was everything Thomas could have wished for — tender and lovely. He felt such peace and happiness. Feelings he’d been missing for weeks, maybe even years. He didn’t remember. Thomas let it last another sweet and long moment before breaking it. Their faces remained intoxicatingly close, open mouths hovering and lips brushing.

“I’d want to be with you,” he said.

Newt’s lips twitched at a smile. “That doesn’t mean much concerning WICKED, since I’d follow you anywhere you choose to go.”

Thomas had to kiss him again at that. “I don’t want anything to do with WICKED.”

“Good that. Because I lied. I would never work with WICKED even if you did.” Thomas laughed softly. “Should..we go back?”

Thomas toyed absentmindedly with Newt’s hair. “Um. No.”

“We have to.” He pulled just slightly away to look sternly (but playfully) at Thomas.

“Not yet,” he whined. “And I still don’t think I can go to sleep. Think of all the time we waste when we sleep! Imagine what we could do with all that time!” Thomas sank to the ground, sitting to overlook the dry earth, and Newt sat next to him. “Why did this have to happen?”

Newt sighed. “Yeah. Pretty bad timing.” He seemed to understand that Thomas referred to the entire apocalypse situation. “Imagine if the world was normal for us. Where do you think you would be?”

“If the world was normal…” Thomas mused. “Let’s see. I’m…working a job. At an ice cream shop.” How nice a normal life could be.

“Why an ice cream shop?”

“I don’t remember what it tastes like, really, but I remember that I really like it. So I think if I had the chance to work in an ice cream shop, I’d take it.” Newt nodded with a smile. “So, I’m working this job after school, and when I come home I have dinner with my parents. We’re eating pizza that night.” Thomas paused. His dad didn’t have a face in his daydream, but he could feel how much they all loved each other; his heart ached for what he’d never have. But his daydream was so nice, so warm, so normal. A melancholy smile played at the edges of his mouth. “Anyway. Where are you?” He looked at Newt, who grinned.

“Well. I’m out in the city with my mom. And I have a sister. And a dog.” He looked out across the barren earth, already lost in his imagination. Thomas smiled. “We just left the museum. This is a perfect world, right, so our dog is allowed inside with us everywhere we go.” He laughed a little. “It’s a bloody hot day, so we go for some ice cream. And,” he looked back to Thomas pointedly, “the cashier in this ice cream shop is _really_ cute.” Thomas laughed, dragging one hand down his face. “And I mean _really really_ cute.”

“So then what do you do?” Thomas asked, humoring him.

Newt thought for a second, like he was debating whether to keep joking or to be more serious. “I think I would finish my ice cream with my mom and sister, and somehow get them to leave while I court the cashier.”

Thomas stifled a snort. “You would _court_ me?”

He grinned dryly and, otherwise ignoring Thomas, continued. “I’d probably have a really bad pick-up line, like, ‘The ice cream was really good, but I think you’d taste sweeter.’ Oh, god,” he laughed with Thomas at his own embarrassingly horrid pick-up line. “Um, and he’d give me his number because for some reason he wants to hear more bad pick-up lines. And the rest…” Newt made a vague gesture: the rest is — not history, but fantasy.

“That,” Thomas said, “was a wonderful story. And I think to make up for it, I’m gonna have to be the one to drive back, aren’t I?”

“Yes, I think so. But that was the best story you’ve ever _heard_ , Tommy. That’ll cost more than the drive back.” The way Newt looked at him was nothing Thomas hadn’t seen before, but his heart still raced.

“Okay. I’ll owe you one.”

Newt stood up and offered a hand to him. “You ready?”

Thomas took his hand, pulled himself up from the ground, and dusted himself off. “Yeah. I’m ready.” They headed back to the car.

**Author's Note:**

> it is 1:27 am i'm sorry if the ending is rough
> 
> it's crazy how i've had writer's block for the other 2 fics i'm posting here and suddenly out of nowhere i'm able to finish this one that i've spent the past 10 months agonizing over how to end it. huh. anyway i am still working on both Sleep Until It's Over AND Losing Touch, and making slow headway. keep ur eyes out for an update on one of them hopefully soon
> 
> pinterest board that i made for this: https://www.pinterest.com/buckmanbarnes/fics/just-listen/  
> spotify playlist that i made for this: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/55ZbylhOS2o5Xj3Da3F03D


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